


You had the Hell Dream, didn’t you...

by GemmaNye



Series: Chronicles of a McPriceley Obsession [4]
Category: The Book of Mormon - Ambiguous Fandom, The Book of Mormon - Parker/Stone/Lopez
Genre: Awkward, Comfort, Flirting, Fluff (I guess?), Low-key, M/M, Prequel, Tension, angsty, hell dream, pov fic, wasn’t going to post this but hey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-07
Updated: 2019-08-07
Packaged: 2020-08-10 16:02:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20138164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GemmaNye/pseuds/GemmaNye
Summary: Elder Price lies on the dusty floor, writhing and breaking out in a cold sweat.The words swirl in his head, knocking the wind out of him.rule 72, rule 23, rule 72, rule 23...Who else is there when he opens his eyes but Connor McKinley, far less hellish and far more attractive than in his dream. His face pales and then turns hot.“Awww” He says “you had the hell dream, didn’t you...”I wasn’t going to post this, it’s part of the ‘Chronicles of a McPriceley obsession’ AU, and was the first chapter I wrote, but after a ton of rewriting and editing, I’d love to share with you the first BOM and the first McPriceley fic I ever wrote :0





	You had the Hell Dream, didn’t you...

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoy this fic! Couldn’t for the life of me think of a song to describe this chapter, but I’d love to hear if you have any ideas!  
Note: this is a prequel, it was meant to be the first ever chapter but I preferred ‘Issues’ to be the first thing I posted to this amazing fandom x

**Early morning, the Bus Stop - Kevin Price**

My eyes squinted up at the bright Ugandan sun, which beat down relentlessly on my sweating face. I felt sick and disorientated, but began to have the vague impression that I was lying on the dusty floor, facing towards the Heavens. My head pounded terribly and I felt quite nauseous - I had been ripped suddenly from the most terrible dream, and the thudding clamour and screams of the familiar Hell I had just escaped still reverberated through my skull.

As I blinked, my vision got steadily clearer, and the message finally arrived at my sluggish brain that I wasn’t as alone as I’d thought. Five figures loomed over me, each with a more pleasantly condescending smile than the last.

“Elder Price?” A familiar voice chirped as if speaking to a child “Are you okay? You passed out at the bus stop” I rubbed the dirt out of my eyes and saw Elder McKinley leaning over me with a concerned smile on his face.

“Wh-what?” I croaked, blindly accepting a hand that was oddly well moisturised and took care not to drop me as I got unsteadily to my feet.

Once I was certain I wouldn’t topple over, my eyes darted quickly to each Elder that surrounded me, all of them wearing an expression of concerned relief, as if they had just hopped out of a frying pan and were expecting the fire at any moment now.

Elder McKinley looked me up and down, his pale eyes resting on my face and he appeared to be calculating my expression rapidly. In my opinion, the Elder had an uncanny aptitude for all things the rest of us were embarrassingly bad at, emotions in general and the ability to talk to women being just two of the large number. I had to admire Connor for that, he always knew exactly what to say to cheer somebody up or else help them to repress the sadness completely (it was common knowledge that he was the expert at this).

At once, you could almost see the lightbulb above McKinley’s head before his face morphed into a sympathetic smile and his hand flew to his chest.

“Awww” he reached his other hand to my shoulder, I tensed slightly at the sudden touch “you had the Hell Dream didn’t you?”

Now that I think about it, you didn’t need to be a master detective to work it out - I had stormed out of the Mission last night whilst _willingly _breaking rules 72 and 23 simultaneously (whatever would Thomas Manson think...) and now I certainly appeared a sorry sight, covered in dust and the jittery look on my face that I recognised as the one on Elder McKinley’s every morning at breakfast.

McKinley’s expression suddenly changed, becoming playful and suggestive, a smirk playing across his face and his eyes gaining a softer edge as he leaned towards me conspiratorially.

“Was I in it?” He spoke slowly, his blue eyes drinking in my expression as I processed this. I suddenly became uncomfortable and my mouth turned very dry, but not quite for the reason that McKinley had expected.

In fact it was because Connor _had _featured in my dream that was causing this unease. I couldn’t stop the vivid memory from flashing before my eyes every time I blinked, of him in a characteristically flamboyant Hellish ensemble, dancing provocatively amongst the devils and demons that we had been taught to fear since kindergarten. I couldn’t block the memory out as hard as I tried, but it seemed as if a part of my brain was latching onto it, a part that I was certainly not ready to think about yet. The more prominent concern in my mind, however, was the fact that all of that, _all of it _was my brain’s doing. It was me who had dressed McKinley up like that in my head, they were _my _thoughts of confusion and lust that still swirled in the back of my mind.

Connor’s _persuasion _ (if it’s permissible to call it that) was no secret down at the Mission, but we all have our issues, and are far too busy stuffing them into a tiny box at the back of our consciousness to concern ourselves with anyone else’s. However it was an obvious fact that McKinley was different - he was more sensitive and eccentric than a bus full of drag queens, and this quiet confidence made me feel... conflicted. Almost every time that his sure hands would wander I was obliged to remind him of his duty to God or good-naturedly chastise him (neither of these had ever really been a deterrent), as the other Elders looked on disapprovingly, but sometimes I felt like I didn’t want to, sometimes I liked his reassuring hand on the small of my back as we walked through the village, or else his soft fingers tracing slowly up and down my leg as we talked and sat together in the Mission.

It was understandable then, than the McKinley I saw in my Hell Dream was simply the culmination of every forbidden though, desire and impulse that shot through my brain every time I looked at him. It was shameful, I know it was, and yet with every passing day I found myself wishing more and more to just say ‘to heck with the rules’ and-

“I...” I coughed twice and stared down at my feet for a long moment before lifting my eyes back to the Elder.

“Well aaanyways we just wanted to let you know about the villagers” McKinley said excitedly, thankfully cutting the tension and encouraging the other Elders to prattle onwards, and if there’s one thing a good Mormon can do it’s talk the hind legs off a donkey (which many of them had clearly done, judging by the lower than average limb count for most animals in the village).

As each Elder began to talk animatedly over each other about the possibility of an _actual baptism_, I kept my eyes on Elder McKinley, who did the tiniest of double-takes when he noticed me looking. He smiled warmly, and we both shifted awkwardly when we realised he still had a hand on my shoulder. He seemed as unwilling to retract it as I was but decided on lacing his fingers together behind his back, as if he didn’t want to be tempted to do otherwise. McKinley then fixed his eyes back on mine, lifting his head slightly to account for our not insignificant height difference and he winked quickly at me before turning to the group and beginning to make non-commital remarks and comments, seamlessly blending into the conversation.

Connor’s fleeting action certainly had the desired effect. I could feel my face flushing deeply and so I turned my head away from the others to face the barren wilderness and mask it as well as I could, along with the small smile spreading across my face that I couldn’t seem to repress as hard as I tried.


End file.
